Day Job

Poetry in motion

I moved recently, and I discovered a funny little notebook while unpacking boxes marked 'Office' a few weeks ago. It was a client book from my days as jewelry saleswoman at Saks Fifth Avenue. Full of names, addresses and David Yurman preferences, I was about to toss the thing when I remembered one of my favorite day job hobbies that helped me keep my sanity while prowling the jewelry cases at Saks; haiku.

Yes, I was a jewel-shilling poet. Don't you know it.

When bored to tears, I would compose a little poem. After a particularly horrendous customer exchange, I'd dash back to my drawer, whip out my client book and jot a line or two to capture, in poetic majesty, that dreadful woman and her horrible retail-manners. Grumpy bosshole blips, vexing visual merchandising moments and cranky co-worker complaints all found their way, via haiku, into my client book.

It is a truly bizzare day job that transforms, if only temporarily, an opera singer into an amateur poet. Do enjoy a few of these gems, courtesy the Fine and Fashion Jewelry Department of Saks Fifth Avenue.

angry rich lady
your sparkly fingers scare me
pay my loans off, please?

cable bracelets, please
radiation turqoise stones
David Yurman, bitch!

don't yell at me, sir.
I can't make your wife love you
no reciept, tough luck

you stole my sale, Suze.
I ordered that Michelle watch
goodbye, commission

I know, I know. I won't quit my day job anytime soon. However, poets with day jobs aren't unheard of, at least according to this interesting, witty and refreshingly 'real' blog I discovered while cruising the Internets. This blog, in addition to being a great read, also features Kitty Fondakowski, aka "Screamy Mimi".

To get a *real* haiku fix, visit the Haiku Nurse.

Joe's House

A barista at Winning Coffee Co. in Albuquerque, Joe Annabi spends his days slinging joe and splits his free time between a blossoming band and a bevy of visual arts that simply dazzle the eyes. This is what happens when a talented guy gets a vision, and then gets busy.

I do mean busy. Like, 'Somebody bake this guy a pie and volunteer to clean his bathroom,'-busy. He's so busy, just skimming a list of his artistic pursuits sends me into alternating fits of admiration and, dare I say, envy. Here, give it a try:

-Co-founder of the band Yoda's House, wherein Joe plays harmonica, accordion and violin in addition to providing vocals. Of course, in truly brilliant fashion, Joe is self taught and has become quite proficient; Yoda's House has grown from a two-man operation to a bustling band of up to 8 "kids" who create gorgeous, melodic music that is seriously addictive. A recent gig poster describes their sound as "Folk Drone Psychadelia", but I'd throw in adjectives like beautiful, haunting, trance-inducing and hypnotic.
-Graphic artist who, with the help of his best friend and Yoda's House co-founder Nick Sedillos, has created a self-described "universe that we intend to unleash on the world in the form of comics."
-Painter who utilizes a variety of different mediums, including "Oil, acryilc, spray...Canvas, paper sacks [and] woodblocks" to create some seriously delightful peices.
-Wonderful, engaging blogger with a site full of fun visuals. This picture is my new favorite thing:

Don't let his modesty fool you. "I'm...trying to take part in way too many forms of art to get very far in any one of them at any given time," says Joe. The going has occasionally been tough, as in the case of the comics. "Comics are a slow and hard medium," he says. "We had our first issue of short vignettes come out in October of 2006, and Issue 2 has yet to see the light of day...Now it's just a matter of finding the time for physical production."

Lest you think that he's in over his head, know that this busy man is working some serious Jedi mind tricks to make it all come together. Joe has taken admirable advantage of his day job, and this year will mark some exciting coffeehouse opportunites. In December, the shop will feature a hanging of his paintings and artwork. On October 3rd, Winning Coffee Co. will showcase Yoda's House in concert with LA rock band Gowns, and they'll do the same again on December 4th with Krista Muir. "So it's not all bad, slinging coffee to the masses," surmises Joe. "This shop helps me, both as a venue to deliver my arts, and a great place to network with other artists."

The Temporary Home for Wayward Artists

Jessica Johnson needs a day job.

(Full disclosure: she is also currently bunking on a futon in my guest bedroom.)

Last Wednesday, Jessica hopped on an airplane and flew from her home in Boston to Portland, OR in the hope of striking out on her own in Stumptown. She's a beatiful young woman with a sparkling personality and a degree in Illustration from MassArt. Though her performing artist experience is limited, to the best of my knowledge, to a truly terrifying string of karaoke appearances, she is a talented artist nonetheless. She loves children's books and hopes to someday make a living illustrating them. Until that time, however, it will likely be a less-than-dreamy day job that pays for her charcoal pencils and Count Chocula.

As I gaze at Jessica across the breakfast table, I wonder what makes her employment dillema different from mine, she a fine artist and me a performer. She and I have found ourselves in similar job situations for years; we've worked together in retail and our acute, uniquely-un-qualified struggles to get work in frustrating times of unemployment have been parallel tales of "I-can-do-amazing-things-but-can't-earn-more-than-ten-dollars-an-hour". Jessica is highly skilled and very accomplished. She's honed her craft for, literally, decades. Her art is delightful, marketable and pleasing. And, like most performing artists, she has struggled like hell to find a flexible, well-paying job that allowed her to practice her art and, in her case, graduate from an esteemed college with an arts degree. "I don't even know what I want to do now," says Jessica. "I'm just sick of retail."

So, what do we think? Are painters in the same boat as performers? Does someone whose passion is drawing share the day job frustrations of a drummer? You tell me.

Down-Home-Igo

When it comes to moving back in with the 'rents, don't be fooled by stereotypes. Gone are the days of the pasty, basement-dwelling, iguana-loving, Hammerpants-wearing weirdo who stays up all hours playing Everquest and only surfaces to make a bleary-eyed appearance at the breakfast table for Mommy's Pancake Special. These days, people going back home include college grads with mountains of debt, ambitious career younglings who are growing a downpayment and business-builders watching their ideas bloom into corporate cash-cows, all under the comfortable, low-rent umbrella of the 'Folks'. And, of course, that rascally performer who wants all the comforts of home to shepherd him through the musical/monetary minefield.

"Mainly I just like to be involved in making music on any level, and if that means working odd hours, and living with mom and pops then so be it," says drummer Ben Standage. By knitting a clever quilt of part-time day job work, Ben has found a way to support a musical way of life that includes free concerts, a flexible gig schedule with his band, Downigo, and a burgeoning recording business. Nevermind that he bunks with his folks in London, aka The Most Expensive City Of All Time To Live In; Ben is no droopy, socially-stunted loser. He's an enterprising musician with impressive skills and a crafty, entrepreneurial mindset. Certainly a far cry from the Everquesting Iguana Man who makes Mommy wash his sheets.

"While other members of the band sell mortgages or teach jazz saxaphone, I keep my overheads down by bearing the indignity of living with my parents," says Ben. His day jobs include a gig installing tents for "rich people's parties", which he describes as being "part hard labor, part cushion arranging." He also works selling t-shirts at concert concessions, a job that allows him to see great concerts for free, and occasionally snag a free shirt or two along the way. In addition to the pillow-pushing and shirt-shilling, Ben teaches drum lessons and operates a mobile recording studio. All these seperate ventures allow him the opportunity to play Downigo shows, sometimes on short notice.

Down-home living may be good, but Ben is hoping that Mom's home cookin' isn't forever. "I hope to one day move out if I can get the recording and drum lessons to pay enough," he says.

Check out Ben's *fabulous* blog, which he's updated daily for the last four years, and see why this multitasking musician is able to pull off the ultimate parental-cohabitation coup: landing a girlfriend. "It appears there are understanding women out there that aren't put off by my co-parental living situation," says Ben, adding "We stay at her [place] a lot."

Neither relevant nor timely, but still really freaking awesome

I am one of approximately five people in America who does not find the Onion funny. The most amusing Onion-related thing I can recall chuckling at was a segment that MTV did on Julia Stiles a few years ago where Miss Stiles reached into a newspaper box to grab an Onion while walking the streets of NYC, camera in tow, commented that the newspaper was damp, gave it a sniff, commented that it smelled vaguely of pee, put two-and-two together, screamed and threw the paper on the ground. Priceless.

I get lots and lots of day job-related forwards, though, and this one gave me so many giggles, on so many levels, that I feel compelled to share. Yeah, it's over three years old but how can you not love a faux-news story titled 'Day Job Officially Becomes Job'? Just try to ignore the 'recent news' at the bottom of the page that includes John Kerry making a whistle-stop tour, ok? It will totally kill the chucklebuzz.

Honey, I'm Home

Come with me for a journey down to the Imagination Station. Close your eyes, let the workaday world melt away, and envision the following scenario:

Your Boss: "Alvin, I see you only worked twenty hours last week instead of the sixty I scheduled for you. Is there something amiss?"

You: "Actually, yeah, there is. I'm this close to finishing my album, and sometimes I just get caught up in the recording studio until 3 in the morning, you know?"

Your Boss: "I see."

You: "See, the band and I feel like this is it, this is the album that is just gonna put us over the edge. My buddy Carl, he works nights emptying trash cans down at the Z100 and he totally swears that if we finish this thing, he'll put it on the station manager's desk and them BAM! Instant stardom. Drugs for everyone."

Your Boss: "Ah."

You: "So, as you can plainly tell, I'm a very busy guy right now, and I just can't come to work for a while. The thing is, I still need money to, you know, like, live? Do you mind if I just come in whenever, but keep my same salary?"

Your Boss: *jaw drops*

You: "Oh, and my insurance, too. I mean, I've got this cough, which would probably totally go away if I quit smoking weed the way that I do, but I really don't want to do anything that will affect my sound on the album, you know? Because it's all about continuity. And that might be a problem once the infection moves deep into my lungs. So, I need to be able to keep smoking weed and get antibiotics. What do you say, can you keep a half-ass like me in Blue Cross and paychecks until this thing pans out?"

Your Boss: *passes out*

You: "Dude, not cool. I knew I should've taken that job at The Home Depot."

Aaaaand scene.

Now, substitute 'album' for 'pommel horse routine', 'My buddy Carl' for 'My gymnastics coach Hans' and 'Drugs' for 'Olympic gold medals', and you've got yourself a very plausible situation. Welcome to the wonderful, magical, too-good-to-be-true world of The Home Depot, employer of more Olympians and Paralympians than any other company in the world. In their quest for complete home improvement and Olympic domination, the folks in orange have created an amazing culture of support and respect for their athlete-employees and created the ultimate day job, one that fully supports amateur athletes in their pursuits and makes me very, very jealous.

According to their website, "To date, more than 300 athlete-associates have competed in the Olympic and Paralympic Games, earning a total of 194 medals including 88 gold, 62 silver and 44 bronze." This is impressive, but what makes The Home Depot truly, deeply badass is that since 1992 they've employed more than 570 athletes through the US Olympic Committee's Job Opportunites Program, offering full-time salaries for flexible part-time work "to accommodate demanding training and competition schedules." The site goes on to say, "Through these programs, The Home Depot supports athletes in more than 30 different sports, including wrestling, field hockey, rowing, shooting, taekwondo, track & field, badminton, speed skating, snowboarding, skiing and ice hockey, among others."

As if these supportive programs aren't enough, The Home Depot decided to build an immense, state-of-the-art, $150 million training facility in Carson, California to further support their athlete-employees. "Whether competing or training," taunts the website, "athletes will have the use of world-class amenities including a 3,000 square foot weight room, training and locker room facilities as well as dining, housing and other hospitality services."

With that, my mind is officially blown.

I mean, while I think it is fabulous that a 'big box' company like The Home Depot would take such drastic steps to support amateur athletics, especially in a country like ours that looks down it's piggy little nose at any sport that doesn't start with 'professional' and end with '-ball', I can't help but wonder: what would happen if, say, Target decided to do the same for performing artists? What if Macys said, 'I've noticed an awful lot of jazz hands in the break room. Let's build a top-of-the-line dance studio out behind shoes.'

Don't get me wrong, I've got all the respect in the world for amateur athletes. I myself participate as an amateur in an Olympic sport, a spendy one at that, and though I know I will never, ever even come close to being Olympic level, a girl can have dreams. But, badminton? Come the fuck on. If I marched my bronze-medal ass down to The Home Depot and said, "Excuse me, sir, but I'm thiiiiiiiis close to breaking out as an international opera star. I just need a job that will support my many, many expenses and demands. What can you do for me?" they would laugh, probably hysterically, and show me the door.

With the impending, controversial Beijing Olympics mere months away, no doubt that training facility in Carson, CA is buzzing with activity. Can you imagine a similar facility for dancers, singers, actors? Are there businesses, small or large, that currently make such drastic commitments to their employees? Or do we, as a society-at-large, only 'go for the gold' when it comes to sports?

You tell me.

"I...don't have one"

For four days every summer, San Diego is overrun with orcs, superheroes and pirates. These cleverly-costumed conventiongoers don't wear that Legolas wig all year 'round, and as one brilliant cameraman prowled the 2007 San Diego Comic Con, he asked the following question:

"What's your real day job?"

This is what they said.

How you doin'?

We are a nation that loves a good follow-up. Is there anyone who doesn't love those 'Where Are They Now?' episodes of Survivor and Celebrity Road Rules: Dolphin Island Challenge? Having recently attended my high school reunion, I can personally attest to the sheer glee that comes from discovering that the bitchy cheerleader-from-hell never got around to shedding those Freshman Forty after college. Though it's only been a few months, lets take a moment to peek into the life of one popular Day Job favorite: Anna Baragiola.

When we last checked in, Miss Baragiola was working as an extra in television and film. She's continuing that work and recently landed a tasty tidbit in a sure-fire blockbuster; keep your eyes peeled as you join the millions of Harrison Ford-lovers and Shia Leboeuf-lusters in catching Indiana Jones 4, because Anna shot scenes as a toughie '50s greaser chic for the highly-anticipated flick.

Congrats would be in order for a cool gig like that, but there's even more reason to celebrate the up-and-coming fabulousness that is Anna. Last week, she landed an agent! You go, girl.

Go and tell Mr. Leboeuf that I luhrve him.

Requiem

He worked as an elementary school teacher and insurance salesman to make ends meet. Then, he changed the face of opera, and music in general, by becoming the single greatest voice of our time. If you do anything today, please take a moment to remember the late, great Pavarotti.

Quick, before he gets out of the loo!

So I'm finishing up an incredible getaway-cation with my husband, and of course I made the very misguided promise that I wouldn't check my email... Or the blog... Or the blog stats... Which is why I'm freezing my considerable bum off on the hotel veranda, typing on a teensy non-computer with Otterpop-fingers. I just can't help myself; I have to say thanks.

Thanks for the unbelievable flood of supportive emails. Keep 'em coming, and know that they all mean a lot to me!

Thanks for keeping the Globe story consistently in their listing of top emailed articles. That is just...

And, of course, thanks for aaallll the delicious hits. I was blown away when I (sneakily) checked my stats this morning.

I'm off to finish this 'Interweb-free' vacation of mine, but if something too exciting to contain happens, I 'm sure I can find a way to sneak under a pier and blog about it. Until then, look forward to a 'Where are they now?'-style roundup of some day job faves on Friday, when I make my triumphant return to the office.

And... Thanks.